


Cats and Dogs and Tanuki, oh my!

by Carochinha



Category: Haikyuu!!, ダイヤのA | Daiya no A | Ace of Diamond
Genre: Fluff, Kuroo's Birthday Fic, M/M, Misplaced Boyfriends, Miyuki's Birthday Fic, More voice actors jokes than should probably be allowed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:14:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27603346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carochinha/pseuds/Carochinha
Summary: "A tanuki walks into a restaurant."If Miyuki's day was a joke, then certainly that would be how it'd start. The punchline? Probably the fact that instead of Sawamura waiting for him, he found himself face to face with an annoyed volleyball player.Halfway across town, Kuroo wondered where Kenma was, and why exactly there was a loud baseball player at his table instead.As both pairs try to make their way back to their respective partners, new friendships are forged. After all, athletes do have more in common than they think.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Miyuki Kazuya/Sawamura Eijun
Comments: 26
Kudos: 130





	Cats and Dogs and Tanuki, oh my!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tomioneer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomioneer/gifts).



Miyuki Kazuya was not running late. 

He was arriving perfectly on time, eight o’clock exactly as he entered the yakiniku place he’d chosen to celebrate his birthday, looking around for his date. 

His _date_. 

To be fair, he’d been so shocked he’d almost fallen on his ass in the batter’s box when Sawamura had walked up to him, bowed sharply, and proclaimed: “As it is your birthday next week, Miyuki Kazuya, I would like to invite you out for a nice dinner, if you don’t have any previous engagements!” 

He’d blinked at him. “Like a date?” He recalled vaguely hearing Kuramochi cackling from nearby. 

“Yes, Miyuki.” There had been a light blush tinting Eijun’s cheeks. “Exactly like a date.” 

So, yes, maybe Kazuya was a bit more high-strung than he’d usually be. And yes, maybe he’d taken a bit longer to choose a nice outfit (a button-up shirt and some decent slacks was still the absolutely generic ensemble he ended up going with, after calling Kuramochi for help, and then having the shortstop send in the demonic duo), but he wanted to at least put in some effort. 

Sawamura had gone ahead earlier, leaving Seidou still during the day, and Kominato the little had _let slip_ that he’d gone to buy Kazuya a birthday present which… didn’t help at all with his mounting nerves, really. 

“Oh?” Perhaps noticing the way he kept looking around the room, the host called out to him. “Are you here for the birthday reservation, two people for eight o’clock?” 

“Yeah, exactly!” 

“Your companion has already arrived.” Wow, Eijun must be more thrilled for this than he’d expected. “Please, follow me.” 

The manager led him to a small secluded table behind a privacy wall, which definitely explained why he hadn’t seen Eijun. 

Or it might be because the boy sitting at the table very much _wasn’t_ Eijun. 

Eyes on his phone, hair badly dyed blonde making him look like a pudding, the mysterious boy looked up at Miyuki as he was left there by the host, before sighing. 

“Is this a joke? Did Kuro send you?” He asked, looking extremely pained to even be existing in the same dimension as Miyuki. 

“Err, no? Who’s Kuro?” Miyuki blinked in confusion as the half-blonde tapped quickly on his phone. 

“My boyfriend.” He brought the phone up to his ear, looking increasingly more miffed with the situation. “Kuro? Is this supposed to be a joke?” 

“ _I have no idea what you’re talking about._ ” Miyuki could hear a nettled voice from the other side of the call. “ _Where even are you, Kenma?_ ”

So Kenma was probably the name of the annoyed mysterious pudding-head boy. 

“I’m at the restaurant. Yakiniku Stadium, Shibuya,” he explained. “There’s a guy in glasses here who just came up to my table.” 

“ _What?! No, no, no, it’s at Yakiniku Stadium,_ **_Shinjuku_ ** _!!_ ” The voice at the other end rose in intonation as he spoke, panic evident. 

Oh. Oh no. 

Oh no, no, no, no. Miyuki laid his head in his hands. This was the worst first-date ever. 

“Great, now the weird dude is freaking out.” The kid sounded more annoyed than anything else. 

“ _Hey, ask him if he’s looking for a kid with like, the darndest puppy eyes._ ” Miyuki raised his head hopefully. That sounded like a match for Sawamura Eijun. “ _It’s like he’s been abandoned at the pound, it’s breaking my heart, Kenma._ ” 

“You don’t have one of those, Kuro.” The boy in front of him massaged the bridge of his nose. “Anyway, clearly this is a disaster.”

“ _Wanna meet up at Shinjuku Gyoen? It’s about halfway between here and there._ ” 

“Sure, that works for me.” And then, sounding impossibly softer than he’d had just a second ago. “See you soon, Kuro.” 

“ _Bye, kitty_.” 

The boy—Kenma, was it?— shut down his call, getting up from his seat. 

“Well, I’m going to go. Sorry about the confusion. Bye.” He turned to quietly explain the situation to the host, who laughed good-naturedly. 

“Hey, wait a second!” Miyuki followed after him as Kenma left the restaurant, the shorter boy eyeing him with an annoyed grimace. “I think your boyfriend has found my… has found Sawamura too.” 

“Oh, the puppy-eyed kid he mentioned?” Kenma asked. 

“Could I tag along with you? It’ll probably make it easier to find him.” 

Kenma sighed heavily, as though the very thought was draining all dregs of energy from him. “I suppose, if you must.” 

The boy was nearly a full head shorter than Miyuki, lither and clearly more reserved. And yet for some reason, Kazuya was the one who felt on his guard, the aura of bother emanating from the other boy strong enough to ward off any regular pestering. 

Too bad Miyuki Kazuya saw that as a challenge.

* * *

The kid in front of him looked about ready to start crying, and Kuroo really didn’t want to deal with that on a normal day, and much less on his birthday. He wondered if he could just call Yaku; maybe he’d know what to do. 

“That asshole,” the boy grumbled, looking downcast as he slouched against the outside wall of the restaurant, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his overcoat. “I should’ve known he hadn’t taken me seriously.”

Kuroo placed his phone back in his pocket, plastering a positive smile on his face. “Hey, kid, I don’t know what you’re going through, but I don’t think it’s quite that bad.” 

“Huh?” Puppy eyes filled with renewed hope turned on him, shining. “What do you mean?” 

“My boyfriend was just saying there’s a dude in glasses at his restaurant.” Kuroo grinned. “Would that be the asshole you’re looking for?” 

“Yes!!” As though a switch had been flipped, the kid propelled himself from the wall, jumping up and planting himself right in front of Kuroo. “Yes, that’d be Miyuki Kazuya!!” 

“Thought so. Turns out, there’s two Yakiniku Stadium restaurants. The other one is in Shibuya.” 

“...Aren’t we in Shibuya?” 

“This is Shinjuku, kid.” Kuroo placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. 

“...” He blinked. “Are those not the same?” 

“Oh boy, where did you come from, Miyagi?” He shook his head. “Anyway, I’m meeting up with Kenma, that’s my previously mentioned boyfriend, at Shinjuku Gyoen. Wanna tag along? Your date will hopefully be there too, and we can trade.” 

“Miyuki Kazuya is not—” He paused, a blush creeping up his cheeks. “Oh no, wait, I guess he is my date.” 

Kuroo laughed. “You’re a riot, kid. What’s your name, anyway?” 

“Sawamura Eijun! I’m the future ace of Seidou High School!” He proclaimed proudly. “Answering your previous questions, I come from Nagano prefecture, and I would feel ever so in your debt for guiding my way in this complicated maze of streets!” 

Kuroo chuckled again, ruffling the boy’s hair. “Well then, Ace-kun, nice to meet you. I’m Kuroo Tetsurou, from Nekoma High. Please allow me to escort you to your suitor.” 

“You’re so nice, Kuroo-san!” Sawamura replied, walking excitedly next to Kuroo, keeping pace with his long legs. He could almost see a wagging tail behind him. “You’re nothing like Miyuki!” 

“Oho?” Kuroo leered, casually placing his hands in his pockets. “Why don’t you tell me more about him?” 

As the boy next to him started to excitedly describe his upperclassman, speech peppered equally with insults and compliments, Kuroo retrieved his phone from his pocket, typing a quick message to Bokuto. 

_So, I got the wrong guy at the restaurant._

* * *

Kenma just really wished things could go well for once. 

Tonight was supposed to be a normal, cozy dinner, eating yakiniku and just being with Kuroo. He’d even bought him a new tank top for training that he’d seen in some shop’s window, the cheesy line ‘My soulmate is a cat’ too good to ignore. The setter currently had the clumsily wrapped package in his bag, the strap of which he clutched tightly as he used its bulk as a barrier between himself and the newest headache in his life. 

Kenma had been in high spirits, looking forward to food and spending time with Kuroo and not playing volleyball for once. Which obviously was why the Universe decided to remind him of its hatred by dropping an annoying, relentless, _talkative_ jerk in glasses in his path. 

“So, do you play any sports?” the stranger asked, jovially grinning as he followed him. Kenma had gotten out his phone and was desperately texting Shouyou for relief, but it didn’t seem to help. “You look like you have the build for it.” 

**_Kenma 11/17 20:14_ **

_Why does everything happen to me, Shouyou?_

“Volleyball” he answered, face still buried in his phone. 

“Oh, wh—”

“Setter.” 

**_Shouyou 11/17 20:14_ **

_it cant be that bad kenma! just talk to him, maybe hes a nice guy!!!_ _  
  
_

“Oh, that’s cool. I play baseball myself.” He paused for a beat, as though waiting for Kenma’s follow-up question. “I’m a catcher.” 

“Hmm,” Kenma replied, uninterested. 

The silence dragged on uncomfortably for some more minutes. 

**_Kenma 11/17 20:17_ **

_Just send a meteorite to kill me, please._

“So, what made you start to play volleyball?” The catcher guy tried again. 

“Kuro.” 

“Ah, that’s your misplaced boyfriend, right?” He grinned. “Is he anything like you? Quiet and petite?” 

“No.” He frowned at his phone. “He’s… cool.” 

“Oho?” Could this guy just _stop grinning_ already? “So you can say nice things!”

Kenma didn’t even deign that with an answer. After a while, the other boy sighed. 

“I miss Sawamura.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, grin finally gone from his face. “He’s so easy to rile up, you wouldn’t believe it.” 

**_Shouyou 11/17 20:19_ **

_dont say that, kenma!!!!_ 💢 

_youre my friend, you cant be hit by a meteirote!!!_ 😤

“I know some idiots like that too.” Shouyou, Taketora, Bokuto, _Lev…_ He sighed once more, looking up from his phone at the bespecladed baseball player. “Hopefully you’ll get back to yours soon.” Then, muttering under his breath, “...and off my back.” 

“... Hey, that was almost a nice thing to say.” The guy grinned once more. “What’s your name, anyway?” 

“Kenma.” And then, almost as an afterthought, “Nekoma High.”

“Oh, you kind of are like a skittish cat.” The baseball player chuckled. “First year?” 

“...” That kind of ticked Kenma off. Maybe it was just a year’s difference, but he was still clearly not a freshman. “Second.” 

“Oh, we’re in the same grade.” He extended a hand towards Kenma in lieu of a proper bow. Kenma looked at him unfazed. “I’m Miyuki Kazuya. Could have been under better circumstances, but nice to meet you, I suppose.”

“Nice to meet you.” Kenma nodded, not bothering to shake Miyuki’s hand, which the catcher dropped after a beat. They walked in silence a while more, leading him to hope that maybe he’d finally shut up. 

**_Kenma 11/17 20:22_ **

_Well. Maybe I can hold off on the meteorite until I get to Kuro again._

“So, exactly _how_ does one end up with a dye job like that?” The irritating snigger once again broke free of Miyuki, grating to Kenma’s ears. 

He looked up at the clear sky. Didn’t look like any meteorites were around. Damn. 

* * *

“—and I mean, he’s a super genius when it comes to baseball, but in other stuff he’s just a regular guy, prone to mistakes like everyone else!” Eijun continued to explain the particularities of his catcher to the amused Kuroo. “He’s bad at History, and sleeps in, and is _clearly_ terrible at planning events!” 

He paused for breath, which the volleyball player used to intercede himself in the conversation. “You like him a lot, don’t you, Ace-kun?” 

“No!!” Eijun immediately bristled, launching on another tirade. “Didn’t you hear anything I said? He’s cunning and scheming and good-looking and clever and—”

“I know what it’s like, y’know, to like someone you think you have no chance with.” Kuroo sighed, placing his hands in his jacket pockets. “Would you like to hear that story?”

“Certainly, Kuroo-san!” 

So far, Eijun liked Kuroo. Unlike Miyuki Kazuya, he seemed nice and like someone who would listen closely to their underclassmen’s problems with good advice to give. So Eijun good-naturedly shut up and listened. 

“I’ve known Kenma all my life, really. For years, I was the one dragging him around here and there, getting him into volleyball and having him set for me.” Kuroo looked fondly towards a past Eijun couldn’t see. “He was always very independent, always doing things his own pace. And, well…” He rubbed the back of his head, messing up an already excessively messy hairstyle. “Once I started liking him, I always felt like he'd never feel the same for me. Like an otherworldly entity that didn't need human companionship.”

“And?” Eijun asked with bated breath. “How did it work out?”

“Funny story, that.” Kuroo chuckled. “Turns out, he thought pretty much the same about me. That I'd never like someone as 'uninteresting' as him. That I'd always view him as my childhood friend and nothing more. But then one day, at the end of a particularly tough game, he set to me, the most perfect toss I'd ever seen in my life, a ball made just for me to strike. And I did, and we scored, and thanks to that, we won.”

Eijun knew that feeling too well. His pitches, hitting Miyuki's mitt as though they'd been created solely for that purpose, their thuds resonating on his ears for hours afterwards. 

“Next thing I knew, Kenma had jumped into my arms in celebration, and it’s hard to describe just how right he felt there. So I kissed him.”

“In the middle of the field?!” Eijun tried to imagine kissing Miyuki on the mound, surrounded by their entire team and thousands of spectators. 

“Court. But yeah. It was just a practice game between us and some annoying crows, so there wasn't a particularly large audience.” He grinned. “Although, even if there had been, I think I'd have done it anyway.”

“Wow! That's unbelievably courageous, Kuroo-san!” Eijun shouted. 

“So don't you go thinking that everything’s doomed right away just because some things went wrong.” The volleyball played ruffled Eijun's hair. “Besides, this catcher of yours did accept your invitation for dinner, didn't he? On his birthday, no less. That's certainly something.”

“Yeah…” Eijun smiled softly, placing his hands in his pockets. “Hopefully.”

“I've been thinking this for a while, but…” Kuroo placed a hand on Eijun's chin, angling his face so he could take a closer look. “Have I seen you somewhere before? You look familiar.” 

“Well, do you follow High School Baseball at all? Seidou is a pretty famous school! And I've played in some games too!” 

“Hmm, no, not at all.” Kuroo shrugged, clearly still bothered. “Ah well, maybe it'll come to me later.”

And, just as he finished saying that, Kuroo's phone began to ring, and he pulled it out of his pocket, taking the call. 

“ _WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU GOT THE WRONG GUY AT THE RESTAURANT?!_ ” Eijun could hear the loud shouting even across the phone line. Kuroo jerked his phone away from his ear. 

“Jesus, Bokuto, volume please,” he complained, warily pulling the phone closer again.

“ _That's right, Bokuto-san._ ” A quieter, strangely unnerving voice could be heard as well. “ _I almost dropped the bar on my head._ ”

“Bar?” Kuroo asked. 

“ _Oh yeah, we're… wait lemme turn on the camera._ ” A pause as Kuroo removed his phone from his ear, looking at the screen instead. Shortly after, video appeared, the sound now coming out of the speakers. 

“IT'S AN OWL!” Eijun shouted before he could control himself. “Kuroo-san, you have an owl friend! I don't have any owl friends!”

“ _Sharp kid, huh?_ ” The owl-looking guy apparently named Bokuto laughed. He was sitting on a bench in an indoor gym, someone else out of focus in the background doing push presses. “ _We're still at Fukurodani, training a bit before heading home._ ”

“Kuroo-san, does everyone you know go to thematically named schools?” Eijun asked, marveled. “You're like a mountain cat, and your friend is an owl, and you mentioned crows just before.” 

“I…” Kuroo paused, blinking. “Huh. I guess so.”

“That's remarkable!” Eijun blurted out. Kuroo and Bokuto shared a look. 

“Ace-kun, could you say that again?”

Eijun blinked. “Remarkable?” 

“ _Oi, Akaashi._ ” Bokuto called out to his out-of-focus friend. “ _Could you come over here a sec?_ ”

“ _What is it, Bokuto-san?_ ”

The other guy slid into view, sitting down next to Bokuto, and Eijun was pretty sure his jaw might have hit the ground. 

Eijun went to a boarding school full of baseball players. He wasn't exactly unfamiliar with hot guys. Heck, both Kuroo and Bokuto definitely fell into that category. Miyuki Kazuya was another great example, body seemingly carved from the wet dreams of a Greek God, face simultaneously beautiful and dangerous, storm and fire all broiling together. 

The person in front of him was still, even considering all of that, absolutely the most beautiful human being Eijun had ever laid eyes on. If Miyuki Kazuya was a marble sculpture, power and strength visible in the handsome features, then this Akaashi was a traditional Japanese painting, striking black hair parting over soft features, downturned eyes and delicate lips. 

Kuroo poked his cheek. “You're staring, Ace-kun. Which, granted and all, but don't go making your catcher jealous.”

“Oh, uh, sorry!” Eijun quickly bowed. 

“ _It's quite alright._ ” The gorgeous boy smiled at him, his melodic, still strangely uncanny voice calming, before speaking to his friend. “ _What did you need, Bokuto-san?_ ” 

“ _Hey, kid, could you maybe say something calmly and quietly? Like, I dunno, 'Bokuto-san is the best'?_ ”

“No, no, no, you've gotta say ‘Bokuto-san’ in this really aggravated, but kind of fond tone.” Kuroo corrected him. 

“Sure.” Eijun shrugged. He could indulge the weird request, even if he didn’t particularly understand what was going on. “Bokuto-san is the best. Bokuto-san? Bokuto-san? Bokuto… san?”

He tested out several different tones until Kuroo and Bokuto were staring at each other wide eyed, their mouths fallen open, Akaashi next to his friend daintily trying not to laugh. 

“ _Holy shit Kuroo, what the fuck?_ ” 

“ _Bokuto-san, language._ ” Akaashi chided him softly, fondness and exasperation equally reflected. 

“ _But he sounds exactly like you!_ ”

“ _I noticed, Bokuto-san. I have to admit, it is slightly unnerving._ ” 

“Are you both kidding me, this is the best discovery ever!” Kuroo snickered. 

As the three volleyball players were distracted in their conversation, Eijun took the chance to whisper something else in that fond, bemused tone that Akaashi was even now using towards Bokuto, affection clearly reflected in his voice. 

“Miyuki Kazuya.”

Somehow, it didn't sound wrong to his ears. 

* * *

Were volleyball players just uninteresting? Miyuki was seriously starting to consider that possibility. 

No matter what he said, the pudding-head setter didn’t react with much more than a monosyllabic response or an annoyed glance. It was like talking to a fervently typing wall. Or to the cat laying on top of it, disdain clear in its furry face. 

Kazuya sighed. “See, this is why baseball is Japan’s national sport.” He shrugged melodramatically. “Volleyball must truly be a boring sport, for you to be so unremarkable.” 

“Excuse you?” Kenma turned on him, eyes narrowed to slits, his voice taking on a sharp edge of contempt and enmity. “What did you just say?”

He’d never spent too much time around cats. But in that moment, he recalled that for as lazy and indolent they could be, they still had claws and fangs to use when the occasion called for them. 

They’d stopped walking, and Miyuki instinctively took a step back, raising his hands and backing away from the snarling setter. “I just meant—”

“I don’t care what you ‘just meant’.” Kenma spoke haughtily, and Kazuya couldn’t help the chill that ran up his spine. “Volleyball is the best sport on earth, and you’re even more of an imbecile than I’d originally thought if you think it’s boring.” 

He took a step forward, eyes burning with passion. 

“You need to be aware of the flow of an entire court of people, there’s tactics of decoy and mind games to play, it isn’t just throwing a little ball and having it be hit!” 

“What!?” Now it was Miyuki’s turn to become incensed. “Baseball isn’t just about hitting a ball! The connection between a pitcher and a catcher is capable of bringing out amazing plays that would never be possible in volleyball! Not to mention the entire work done by the rest of the team!” 

“Are you an idiot?” Again that sneer that left Kazuya reeling. “When a set is perfectly created for a spiker, it’s like a work of art coming to life! A dance of everyone working together to perfectly dig out, set, and spike a ball, only being able to touch it those three times, only for milliseconds each time! Unlike in baseball, where you get to waste everyone’s time for hours while you prepare your pitches!” 

“You wouldn’t understand the connection between a catcher and a pitcher truly in sync,” Kazuya remarked dismissively. 

“Wouldn’t I?” Kenma raised his eyebrows, looking at Miyuki from under his hair. “Who do you think got me into volleyball? Kuro did. Volleyball is _his_ sport, and he taught me what it’s like to truly become connected with someone. I won’t have you badmouthing it, nor him by adjacency, _Kazuya_.”

A strange recognition flashed through Kazuya’s mind at those last few words. Maybe it was the use of his first name, or the disdainful tone of voice. 

But for a second, instead of the bleached blonde of the boy in front of him, he saw platinum blonde, the setter all but morphing into a familiar pitcher, a shiver running up his spine full-force like he’d just walked into a freezer. 

_Why does this kid sound exactly like Mei?!_

Perhaps seeing the horror on his face and misinterpreting it as regret, the setter drew back into himself, facing forward as he began walking once more.

“Well. As long as you understand that volleyball is cool.”

Kazuya nodded vigorously. If there was something he wasn’t doing again anytime soon, it was badmouthing volleyball. 

* * *

Walking back to his room, hair still wet from the shower, Mei let out a sneeze.

"Mei-san!!" As though summoned by that act, Itsuki appeared running from around the corner, towel in hand, immediately busying himself with drying the pitcher's hair. "Are you okay? Are you coming down with a cold? You have to be careful, Mei-san!"

Swatting his catcher away, Mei sneered "I'm not sick, Itsuki, stop mothering me. I just sneezed once, I'm not dying." He paused, considering. "Someone must be badmouthing me. Fufufu, I guess I am pretty enviable."

"Or maybe you're getting sick because you keep walking around with wet hair."

As Mei began walking away, Itsuki on his heels still trying to dry him, something crossed his mind.

_Isn't it Kazuya's birthday today? Ah well, it doesn't matter. He should've come to Inashiro._

* * *

It felt like it’d been an eternity since Kuroo had seen Kenma. 

Now, he didn’t want to be misunderstood. The loud pitcher boy was amusing, and hilarious, and it’d been a blast to record him saying all manner of embarrassing things as he pitched his voice to sound, _some_ fucking _how_ , just like Akaashi’s. 

However, the kid _was_ incredibly loud, with seemingly enough vigor to talk the entire way to Shinjuku Gyoen. It was just his luck to end up with a chatterbox who could put Karasuno's shorty to shame—with a surprising breadth of vocabulary to boot. Establishing the comparison of Bokuto to an owl, and Kuroo to a mountain cat, had set the pitcher off on a whole tangent about his own teammates. In Kuroo's opinion, Sawamura's friends would make a better petting zoo than baseball team, what with the monstrous polar bears, brotherly cheetahs, and adorable bunnies he insisted on prattling about. 

And then there was Miyuki Kazuya, the name of whom Kuroo was sure would be permanently burned into his mind _without having ever even met the guy_. He felt like throwing up a prayer for the entire Seidou baseball team, if this obvious (and at least one-sided) sexual tension was something they had to deal with on a daily basis. 

So, yes, when he finally spotted Kenma standing next to a yakitori vendor in the park, his usual displeasure at society not only plain to see on his expression, but also visible in every tense line of his body, Kuroo broke out into a run. Rushing in, he took the setter into his arms, hugging him tightly, his large body all but obscuring Kenma’s from the rest of the world as he lifted him off his feet. 

“Kuro…” Kenma murmured, resting his face on the curve of his neck as he clutched at the back of Kuroo’s coat. 

“I’m so happy to see you, kitty,” he gushed, the warmth of Kenma’s body familiar and wonderful. “I swear I won’t ever again complain that you’re quiet.” 

Kenma all but purred in response, head slotted nicely underneath his own. Finally coming down from his high upon seeing his boyfriend, Kuroo looked around again. 

The pitcher was still standing close by, looking like he was about to start crying as he watched them. It would have been endearing, if Kuroo wasn’t so damn tired of him by this point. 

And, from behind Kenma, another boy was approaching Sawamura. He supposed this was the fabled Miyuki Kazuya, somehow looking about as weary as Kuroo felt. The boy fit the (long, illustrative, doting if insulting) description he’d been given, glasses all but hiding his eyes, which were locked onto his pitcher. There was a tender smile on his face, and Kuroo couldn’t help the grin that snuck onto his own lips, hidden against Kenma’s cold hair. 

_Well, then._ He thought, pressing a kiss to his setter’s head. _Not one-sided at all._

* * *

It felt like it’d been an eternity since Miyuki had seen Sawamura. 

It was hard not to notice his arrival normally enough, but when it was preceded by a tall, wild looking panther showing up and snatching up the setter he’d been trying to have a conversation with, it was even harder to miss. 

Trailing on the volleyball player’s heels, Sawamura Eijun looked about ready to start crying upon seeing such a melodramatic hug occurring in front of him, and Kazuya had probably never been happier to see him in his life. 

Legs feeling heavier than they would even after playing twelve innings, he approached the pitcher from the side, letting his head rest on his shoulder. Immediately Sawamura squawked in alarm. 

“Miyuki Kazuya!!” He all but jumped out of his skin... yet not with enough force to dislodge the catcher. It was indeed Sawamura, sounding like Sawamura, indignant like Sawamura, considerate like Sawamura. “What—”

“Ahhh…” He sighed, a smile spreading on his face unseen. “I’m so happy you’re not secretly Mei.” 

This did, indeed, cause the pitcher to grab Miyuki by his shoulders, pushing him away as he stared at his face unnervingly. 

“What does Mei have to do with anything!?!?” 

“Nothing.” Kazuya grinned happily. “That’s why I’m glad you’re not him.”

Eijun blinked in confusion as an unfamiliar voice began to laugh vociferously behind him. Kazuya turned around, looking up at the volleyball player. 

“So, you must be Kuro.” The panther had put down his setter, who looked even smaller next to his boyfriend. “Thank you for returning this idiot to me.” He threw an arm over the pitcher’s shoulders, pulling him close and ignoring the abrupt squeak Sawamura let out.

“No, I’m glad to have reunited a happy couple.” He grinned as Kazuya felt himself blush, quickly retrieving his arm. “I’ve heard a lot about you in the past little while, Miyuki Kazuya.” 

“Well, all I’ve heard about you is that you like volleyball.” A shiver ran up his spine at remembering pudding-head Mei. “...A lot.”

“You know, Miyuki!” Eijun excitedly interrupted, apparently recovered from his confusion, “Kuroo-san is really cool!” 

“Is that so,” Kazuya replied drily, but Sawamura didn’t seem to notice his vexation. 

“Oh!” He seemed to have spotted Kenma, running up to him. Oh, this was going to be fun. By the grin on Kuro’s (or Kuroo’s?) face, he seemed to agree. “You must be Kenma! Kuroo-san looked really affectionate whenever he spoke of you, like the hero in a shoujo manga! You’re cute too, like a cat! You’re a setter, right? Do you like volleyball? My cou—”

“Wow,” Kenma said blankly, eyes wide as he shrank back from Sawamura, tucking himself away at his boyfriend’s side. “I think I preferred your catcher.” 

“Aww, Kenma!” Kazuya said happily. “I didn’t think we’d become such good friends!” 

The icy gaze from the setter made him take an instinctive step back. 

“In any case,” Kuroo hugged his boyfriend from behind, somehow drooping his large body over the smaller setter without toppling him over. “Since we’ve all made it here, we should take this chance and have some food! Our dinners did get kind of canceled.” 

As the volleyball player pushed his annoyed boyfriend in front of him, Kenma just barely stopping to grab his bag from where it’d been discarded on the ground, Sawamura surprised Miyuki by grabbing his hand, looking away as a dusting of red coloured his cheeks. 

“Kuroo-san is cool,” he muttered, fingers tightening around Kazuya’s palm. “But you’re cooler, Miyuki-senpai.” 

Somehow, his heart skipped a beat as his tongue tied in his mouth, and he was sure he must be furiously blushing. 

“G-good.” He finally managed to squeak out after Eijun had already begun walking, dragging him behind. “I missed you too.” 

His only response was the fingers around his palm interlacing with his own. And indeed, that was more than enough. 

* * *

Takoyaki was Eijun’s new favorite food, purely because it could be eaten one-handed. 

If their new volleyball friends had noticed anything unusual about the both of them holding hands but being unable to look at each other, they hadn’t said anything. Not that they’d have much in the way of morals to speak, Kuroo constantly finding ways to be in contact with Kenma even as he discussed the differences in muscle training with Miyuki, a conversation that was going way over the pitcher’s head. 

“You remind me of my friend,” Kenma said, looking at Eijun with a small smile before popping a piece of takoyaki into his mouth. Chewing it and swallowing, he continued. “He’s loud and talkative too, but he’s probably the one who loves volleyball the most out of everyone I know.” 

“Volleyball is cool,” Eijun agreed. “I mean, baseball is cooler, _obviously_ , but I like volleyball too. My cousin plays, so I know a bit about it.” 

“Oh, I don’t know anything about baseball.” Kenma scrunched up his nose. It was exceedingly cute. “I mostly just play video-games, when I’m not playing volleyball.” 

“Oh, what kind of games?” Eijun asked excitedly, eating another takoyaki. As he spoke puffs of hot steam left his mouth. “My roommate plays a lot of those, so I know a bit about them too!” 

“...Are you one of those people that collects knowledge from other people’s interests?” Kenma asked curiously. 

“I suppose, a bit yeah!” Eijun giggled sheepishly. “I usually read manga in my spare time though. Not that I get a lot of that.”

“That part I can relate to.” Kenma sighed, fishing out another piece of takoyaki. “Sometimes, when I’m deep into a game, I’ll wake up hours before practice just to play a bit more.” 

“Oh! I do that with running!”

Kenma looked at him kind of disgustedly. “I suppose sports idiots are the same across all variants.” 

All in all, it was pleasant conversation, the setter surprisingly amiable and even animated when Eijun shifted the conversation towards video games, and he left with several recommendations to give to Kuramochi. 

It was actually kind of sad, when he and Miyuki parted ways with the two volleyball players, numbers exchanged alongside promises of watching each other’s games whenever possible. 

Kuroo threw an arm around Miyuki’s shoulders, snickering.

“Well, then, Catcher-san,” he leered, “a _very_ happy birthday to you.” 

“I could say the same to you, Kuro-san.” Miyuki grinned slily. “I hope you and your scary setter have an exceedingly pleasant evening.” 

The sight of both of them grinning set alarm bells blaring in Eijun’s head, even as Kenma sighed, giving him a small wave. And yet, as the other couple departed, his catcher’s warm fingers found their way back around his own, the pitcher suddenly found himself able to think of little else. 

“Hum,” he said intelligently, glancing down at their joined hands, then up at his catcher’s face. 

“Sawamura,” Miyuki blurted, looking back at him. “Would you like to take a walk?” 

Wordlessly, he nodded. It might be the middle of November, but Shinjuku Gyoen was already all but decorated for Christmas, lights shining in all the trees lining their path. As they walked further away from the small fairground, less and less people crossed their route, until finally, they found themselves crossing a deserted bridge across the lake. 

The stars were shining bright in the sky, illuminating their way alongside the fairy lights. It reflected on the lake’s surface, playing tricks on Miyuki’s hair and face, making him look almost ethereal. 

_Okay, Eijun._

_Now or never._

He stopped walking, squeezing his catcher’s hand. “Miyuki Kazuya.” Miyuki stopped too, looking at him as though unsure of what to expect. “Happy Birthday.” 

Eijun dug in his jacket’s pocket for the gift he’d bought just that afternoon, on the phone with Kuramochi as he desperately tried to choose the best possible option. He hoped he’d gotten it right as he handed it to Miyuki, trying to act nonchalantly.

Much to his sadness, his catcher let go of his hand to unwrap it, but then his face lit up with a boyish smile as he realized what he was holding. 

“It’s laces, for my glove, isn’t it?” He asked, apparently charmed by the simple gift. “Thanks to you, mine were slowly disintegrating.” 

“Y-yeah…” Eijun mumbled, suddenly self-conscious. “Uhm, when I asked Chris-senpai, he said you have a lacing kit already... since you hadn’t fixed them yet, I thought maybe you needed more laces? They’re blue, since your glove is yellow, that way you can have the Seidou colours…” 

“Thanks, Sawamura!” He grinned, clutching the box. “These will be really useful!”

It probably was the smile. Eijun wasn’t used to seeing Miyuki smiling like that, unguarded and honest. The smile, or the lighting, or the bridge at night, or the lingering warmth of his catcher’s hand still on his own, or maybe Kuroo’s words still ringing on his mind. 

_It’s hard to describe just how right he felt there in my arms._

Miyuki Kazuya’s hand had felt just perfect in Eijun’s too, like the pitch that usually separated them was an unneeded barrier. In a way, he understood what Kuroo had meant. If asked to explain the feeling currently filling his heart, so tight it felt like it must burst, he’d be hard pressed to put a name to it. But if he had to try, he supposed it would have been something like an epiphany. Something finally falling into place, a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding all his life finally escaping him as a sigh. 

_So I kissed him._

So Eijun kissed him. 

And he realized what Kuroo had meant, about it not mattering even if there had been an audience of thousands. Right in that moment, as emotion overrode everything else in Eijun’s brain, it was like the entire world had fallen away, leaving just him and Kazuya on that bridge, the catcher breathing in sharply as he realized what had happened, as he realized that Eijun had just crossed the distance between them and _kissed_ him, eyes squeezed closed in instinct. 

For what felt like an eternity, there was no other reaction from Miyuki Kazuya, and Eijun felt like maybe he’d messed up. 

And then, he heard a small clatter as the box of glove strings dropped to the wooden planks of the bridge, and Kazuya grabbed the collar of his jacket, pulling him closer and kissing him back intensely. 

Those eternal 18.44 meters vanished in a second, alongside the rest of the world. 

But, Eijun thought as they broke apart, catching Kazuya’s eye and smiling shyly, earning a satisfied grin in return, maybe it’d never truly been there in the first place. He dove in to kiss his catcher again, whispering against his lips.

“Happy birthday, Miyuki-senpai.” 

* * *

Kenma was slowly feeling himself starting to nod off on Kuroo’s back. His boyfriend carried him home, seemingly not even bothered by the extra weight. 

“How do you think those two are coming along, Kenma?” he asked in the way of conversation. “For the sanity of their team, I hope _something_ has happened.” 

“They were holding hands,” Kenma stated, yawning. “Hopefully that bodes well.” 

“They were an amusing pair, though, weren’t they?” Kuroo chuckled, adjusting Kenma on his back. “It was palpable how in love the little lost puppy was.”

“Hmm,” Kenma mumbled noncommittally, falling a bit further into a dreamland. 

The next thing he registered was the sharp click of a door being unlocked, and as he looked around, he found himself in front of Kuroo’s house. With practiced ease, he got both of them inside the house, removing Kenma’s sneakers even as he stepped out of his own. 

“I could do that myself, Kuro.” Despite that, he yawned again. 

“It’s fine, kitty,” Kuroo chuckled, beginning to climb the stairs to his room. “I know being with people tires you out.” He paused at the top of the stairs, grinning. “And those two were particularly tiring.” 

He opened the door to his room, softly placing Kenma on top of the bed, dropping his bag in front of him. Kenma dug through it for his pajamas, instead finding the clumsily wrapped package. 

“Ah.” He blinked his eyes open all the way. “That’s right.” 

“Hmm?” Kuroo asked, already shirtless as he’d been getting ready for bed. “What’s up?” 

Kenma got up from the bed, walking to Kuroo and pushing the gift against his chest. “This is for you,” he mumbled. “Happy birthday, Kuro.” 

Kuroo smiled as he unwrapped it, chuckling at the cheesy tank top before grabbing Kenma in a tight hug. “The shirt is cute, but you’re the best present I could ask for.” 

“Wow,” Kenma deadpanned. “You managed to be cornier than the shirt too.” 

After changing and getting into bed, while Kenma curled up against Kuroo’s chest, a phone vibrated on the nightstand. 

“It’s probably just Shouyou,” he murmured sleepily. “You can ignore it.”

“No, I think that was mine… It’s probably just Bokuto, but…” Movement as Kuroo shifted to grab his phone, and then a chuckle. “How cute.” 

Kenma made a questioning noise. 

“The little pitcher sent me a thank you message. Apparently ‘my words served as inspiration to fill him with determination’. Whatever that means.” 

“I think it means he managed to clear the date event.” 

“Y’know, I still haven’t figured out who he looks like,” Kuroo complained, dropping onto his back. Adjusting with him, Kenma tucked a leg under Kuroo’s bent one, hand curling around a fistfull of his boyfriend’s sleep shirt. “He sounds like Akaashi, which is still the funniest thing, but he looks like someone and I can’t figure out _who_.” 

“Huh?” Was Kuroo being serious? Of the two of them, he was usually the most observant when it came to people’s relationships. “Doesn’t he obviously look like his cousin?” 

“How the fuck am I supposed to know who his cousin is?” 

“...”

“...”

“Karasuno’s Sawamura Daichi?” Kenma asked. “From the moment he said he had a cousin that played volleyball, I thought it was obvious.”

“FUCK, THAT IS IT.” Kuroo ran a hand over his face, groaning. 

“Pfft.” Kenma giggled, before breaking out into laughter, pressing his face to Kuroo’s chest to muffle it. “You’re usually good at this, Kuro.” 

“Well!” Kuroo sounded embarrassed, and Kenma raised his head, surprised. “I was preoccupied with other things! Like getting back to you as soon as I could!” 

Now it was Kenma’s turn to blush, and he instinctively craned his head to hide his face behind his hair, even though he knew it’d have no effect in the dark room. Eventually, though, he mumbled, “Hey Kuro?”

“Hmm?” 

“I really do love you.” And then, before he could consider his words, and before his boyfriend could say something embarrassing in return, Kenma pressed his lips to Kuroo’s.

Kuroo returned the kiss languidly as he brushed away the hair from Kenma’s face, lips parting to accept each other’s tongues easily, circling around in a sleepy dance of comfort and familiarity. Kuroo’s hands combed through unevenly colored locks, causing Kenma to hum in satisfaction, the vibrations carrying through every point of contact, from their lips, to their slotted legs, to their hearts beating close together. 

As they finally parted, Kenma settled himself on Kuroo’s chest, sleep once again easily claiming him. As he fell into unconsciousness, his thoughts ran over the events of the night, and a smile spread across his features. 

All in all, he supposed he could consider things as having gone well. After all, not only was he happily curled up in Kuroo’s chest, but somewhere else in the city, another birthday boy had found his match. Maybe in the end, it had all been for the best. 

“Happy Birthday, Kuro.” Kenma whispered. “Next time, I won’t lose you.”

The only answer he got were Kuroo’s arms tightening around him. But for Kenma, that was perfectly enough. Afterall, a cat has nine lives—three for playing (volleyball), three for straying (right into annoying people’s paths), and three for staying right in Kuroo’s arms.

**Author's Note:**

> So, my good friend tomioneer made the terrible mistake of mentioning that Kuroo's and Miyuki's birthdays were on the same day and I just. I had to write _something_! So, here, baseball boys and volleyball boys bonding over shared love for sports and their respective partners. 
> 
> sadly I didn't keep up with the swimming boys enough to add that one too :'( 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this silly little thing! And happy birthday to them bois.


End file.
